Duel 2

Kael hit the ground hard, the air exploding from his lungs.

His back screamed.

His ribs felt like they'd entirely given up on him.

His arm went numb for half a second before lighting up with a fire that seemed to burn from the inside out.

He lay there, staring at the vast, unfamiliar sky.

'Okay. That... that definitely hurt.'

He rolled over slowly, a cough tearing from his throat, but that was a mistake.

A fresh wave of agony bloomed through his side.

'Is this what dying feels like? Again?'

The sound of boots echoed nearby, drawing closer.

He looked up to see Jarik approaching, his figure silhouetted against the arena's light.

Kael groaned, forcing himself up onto one knee, his vision disoriented.

His whole body felt like it had been thrown into a meat grinder, then politely asked to stand up and try again.

'Yeah, okay. I definitely won't be able to match his combat abilities.'

Jarik stopped a few feet away, looking down. "You're tougher than you look."

Kael managed a half-dead glare. 'And you hit harder than a horse on steroids,' he thought, but didn't say it aloud. Mostly because even breathing hurt.

He wobbled to his feet, his sword dragging just slightly against the stone.

He wasn't about to give up yet.

"You can still stand," Jarik said, sounding genuinely impressed.

Kael coughed, one eye twitching involuntarily. "Give it a few more hits, and we'll see."

His stance was sloppy, his arms shook visibly, every line of his body screaming defeat.

Yet, he still held the sword.

"Alright," Kael muttered, gritting his teeth. "Let's try this again."

Jarik smiled faintly. "Good."

Then he moved.

Kael barely had time to react. Jarik came in faster now, a blur of motion, swinging, probing.

His blade danced around Kael like a viper aiming for its prey, and Kael could only swing back awkwardly to block, parry, or simply flail.

He got hit more than once.

Pain jolted through him with each impact.

But he kept going.

He took a grazing cut to the shoulder.

He blocked a downward strike that nearly shattered his wrists.

He got elbowed in the gut again, the wind knocked out of him.

Still, he moved.

Still, he fought.

Then, he saw an opening.

Jarik overextended for just a moment, a fleeting imbalance. Kael seized it, stepping in with everything he had, swinging low and wide.

Clang!

Jarik spun, catching the strike mid-air with a sharp twist that sent Kael's blade aside.

Then, in one clean, brutal motion, he brought the hilt of his sword forward and slammed it into Kael's chest.

Thud.

Kael's breath left him... again. He collapsed backward, a dead weight.

This time, he didn't get up.

Silence fell across the arena, heavy and complete.

The instructor stepped forward, raised a hand. "Match over. Victory: Jarik Rendel."

Kael lay there, eyes half-lidded, his chest rising and falling in ragged, desperate gasps, like he'd just fought an entire war.

Jarik stood over him, then extended a hand.

Kael stared at it for a second, then slowly reached up and took it.

"I'll be looking forward to another match," Jarik said, helping him sit up. "Once you figure out how to aim that strength."

Kael, barely upright, muttered under his breath, a faint, weary whisper. '…I liked it better when I just had to smile at people.'

He limped off the platform like a man eighty years older than he was.

Each step felt like a fresh betrayal from his battered body.

His ribs ached with every breath, his lungs were still protesting, and his arms might as well have been boiled noodles.

Theo was waiting for him just off the dueling floor, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as ever.

Kael dragged his feet the final few meters before flopping down onto the nearest bench with a dramatic groan.

"Don't say anything," he wheezed, closing his eyes.

Theo didn't say anything—for five whole seconds.

Then:

"You actually lasted longer than I thought."

Kael pried one eye open to glare at him. "Was that supposed to be comforting?"

"It was meant to be honest."

Kael rolled his head back against the stone wall, staring at the sky. "Do I still pass?"

Theo shrugged. "I don't know yet, but they obviously weren't looking for winners, they were looking for fighters. So it's very unlikely for you to fail."

Kael let out a slow, painful breath. "Cool. I fought. I bled. And now I want to sleep for a week."

"You surprised a lot of people," Theo added.

Kael closed his eyes again. "Including myself."

Theo was quiet for a beat, then his voice took on a slightly more serious tone "You know, you could get really good if you just tried."

Kael cracked one eye open again. "Yeah, yeah. I'm working on it."

Theo looked like he was going to say something more, but then glanced up at the dueling screens above. "Looks like it's my turn."

"Well, good luck then," Kael said with a crooked, pain-filled smile. "I really hope you don't get beat up like I did."

Theo shook his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips, and turned toward the arena. "That would require someone on your level."

'Heartless bastard,'

Kael thought, groaning and slumping lower into the bench.

'Again… smiling was so much easier.'

Kael sat there alone, sore, confused, and mildly impressed with himself.

He had actually held his own, however briefly, against someone with far more skill and training.

It was true he lost, badly, but today was the first day he had ever held a weapon against another person. He had no strategy, no technique, no special movements, but he had still put up a decent fight.

And if he was being honest, a strange, electric thrill had coursed through him with every clash, every near miss, every agonizing hit.

He'd enjoyed every moment of it.

The adrenaline, the crushing pressure, the sharp pain, the high stakes.

He felt more raw emotions in those last thirty minutes than he had in his entire previous thirty years of life.

Is this what it means to be a warrior?

For now that he had gotten a taste of this feeling, he knew one thing for sure.

'I definitely want to experience it again.'

"What are you thinking about?"

He was suddenly interrupted mid-thought by a familiar voice.

Looking up, he found Theo standing calmly, his uniform still neat and spotless, his hair smooth, no traces of a fight anywhere.

"Did they cancel your fight?" Kael asked, bewildered.

"What do you mean? I'm done already."

Kael's face fell into a perfect deadpan.

He then sighed and mumbled "And let me guess, you won."

"Wow, you actually have brains," Theo said, utterly unrepentant.

"…" Kael just stared.

"You're lucky I can't get up from this chair."

"I don't think anything would change even if you could," Theo replied smoothly.

"…"

"Would you like me to take you to the infirmary?"

"Yes, please." Kael mumbled, realizing he was no match for this monster.